Diamond in the Rough
by numby hi
Summary: Draco Malfoy, the spoilt, prejudiced pureblood. Draco Malfoy, the broken, tortured being. Is he all he seems? Draco will need help to be healed of his injuries, not merely physically. Is Hermione, the strict, filthy mudblood his singular ray of hope in his dark world? Read to discover... Rated T for violence and depression.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

*** Credits to JK Rowling – the true owner of Harry Potter. This story is set after book 7 – the war is over and students have the option to partake in an additional year of education if one was missed during the war. These are eighth years ***

The year had reached that time again. The holidays were drawing to a close, the Hogwarts express was due to arrive at King's Cross Station on Monday. That left three short days to pack my trunk and prepare for my yearly escape from Malfoy Manor.

I was quite aware that my fellow Hogwarts students assumed I was a pampered, spoilt pureblood whose needs were ever met, and this presumption was not without ground, nor entirely false. I certainly owned anything I desired, even fleetingly, for I was a pureblood and surely deserved the finest of everything; brooms, robes, books, pets, equipment, you name it. While this would of course appear as signs of love, affection even adoration to the public eye, I can assure you this is not the case.

Unlike most students at Hogwarts, I despise the holidays. Each and every day of those _leisurely _weeks I am barricaded in the Manor's extensive library in an attempt to seal myself away from my father.

"Lucius Malfoy." The name rolled off my tongue, leaving a bitter taste.

My 'esteemed' father, devoted servant to The Dark Lord, wealthy head of a prominent pureblood family, had utterly broken in Azkaban. While mildly abusive before incarceration, Lucius was now ruthless with his beatings, leaving me crumpled in agony week after week. He was released from Azkaban purely because his insanity had corrupted his mind completely. The Ministry of Magic had deemed him eligible for an early discharge due to his non-participation in the Battle of Hogwarts. The addition of his compromised mind physically impairing his ability to live, induced pity in the Ministry scumbags. They rewarded his desertion with release and I loathed them for it. Because of their weak wills I was now suffering worse than ever before under my father's wrath.

I now detested everything about Lucius; his wealth, attitude, even his petty hierarchal beliefs. All my life I was raised to hate and degrade the filthy muggles we concealed ourselves from. Now, I just didn't care. It was clear to me that blood didn't have the slightest impact on capability or morality. Take my father for instance - blood more pure than the Virgin Mary. He is currently a mere shadow of his former _grand _self.

It was because of his ignorant prejudice that I was a smug fool at Hogwarts. Every day I would walk with an inherited, arrogant swagger, assuming I was the prime example of the perfect wizard. My smugness would radiate from me, noticeable to any student or teacher in a 100 mile radius. But they simply didn't know. They didn't know I was scared inside. Too scared to oppose my father. Too frightened of Lucius' domineering control over my life. At home, I would relentlessly attempt to impress my indifferent father, continually failing. I lived in fear, in my own home, grovelling before the dominance of Lucius. However, it was not always so bleak as it was now. My will strengthened as I aged and I would occasionally successfully protect myself, leading a somewhat normal life. I smiled as I recalled the blissful moment of triumph when I first stupefied Lucius. I certainly rued the action of defence later, but in the moment, it was priceless.

This all changed upon Lucius' return from Azkaban. _Dear _father was back it was all I could do to survive. The fresh memory of last week's beating, replayed in my mind. Fortunately on that occasion I had been unconscious within seconds. It was better that way.

As I sat, my jeaned knees pressed against my face, curled in a corner of the enormous library, these thoughts swirled in my brain. I couldn't wait to be released from the hell I was currently living in. Hogwarts was my blissful ticket out of here, a promise of better things to come. I idly turned the pages of the book rested at my socked feet. Staring unseeingly at the graphic images of muggle torture before me, I suddenly heard blundering footsteps outside the grand library entrance. I withdrew further into my corner, physically tightening myself into a protective ball.

The mahogany door blasted off its hinges as Lucius stormed into the room, swaying drunkenly. He viciously bellowed indistinct words towards my corner. I shook violently as he approached, his loud babble drowning out my terrified whimpers. I peered over my trembling knees as his thick soled, dragon hide boot swung through the air. It connected with my ribs and I let out a cry of pain. He brought it back for another blow, shortly bringing it flying back into the injured area with immense strength. Again and again his foot pummelled my ribs and I howled loudly, only provoking him further. I tried to succumb to the darkness tainting my vision, to pass out, but to no avail. As his boot connected for the umpteenth time, I felt my ribs crack and break, puncturing my lung. I screamed in agony, sobbing as he continued to beat my side. I tried to curl myself tighter into a more defensive position, hugging my trembling knees as I struggled to breathe. Blood burst from my mouth as I spluttered and coughed. Would I die this time? Would this unbearable, excruciating torture cease with the close of my life? My screams of pain mingled with the unrecognisable roar of sound leaving his maniacally grinning mouth as he pelted my ribs, stomach, legs and back. His euphoric glee at my terrible anguish was evident as he screeched with laughter.

Lucius altered his target for the final blow, shattering my face repeatedly with his leather clad foot. My replying guttural cry of tremendous suffering concluded his work and he left, swaying, abandoning my crumpled form. Blood trickled from my broken nose and swollen mouth. I sobbed in agony, utterly destroyed from the vicious beating I had just received. Violently, I coughed blood onto the pristinely white carpet beneath me. I began to struggle, stomach dragging on the floor, towards the light of the open doorway. As I escaped and set eyes on the staircase before me, I noticed the affect my lack of oxygen was producing. My breath came in ragged pants and my vision was edged with a thick, hazy blur. Blue tinged my ghostly white complexion, the splatters of blood from my mouth stark against the contrasting pallor.

I reached the stairs, gazing down them incomprehensively. Were they always this long? They seemed to go on infinitely, descending into a pool of shadows below. I blinked sluggishly, attempting to clear my vision, but the cloudy blackness merely crept further into my limited vision. Deliriously, I attempted to progress down the infinite staircase, crawling on all fours into the darkness. My breath barely coming at all, oxygen deprivation soon proved too much and I sunk into the blackness, leaving my excruciating body. I limply tumbled down the steep steps, collapsing in a broken heap at the bottom.


	2. Chapter 2

I awoke, head spinning from the rush of returning agony, to find my mother crying over my previously lifeless form. I was still at the foot of the grand stairs, body screaming in desperately painful anguish, but nonetheless able to breath with minimal hitches. I spluttered a small amount of blood as I looked at my now bare, heaving chest. A small tube was protruding from my injured side, blood dripping from the top. It had punctured my collapsed lung enabling me to breathe by draining the area of the red liquid now leaking from the tube. Mother had saved me ,yet again, from Lucius' beating.

She wept over my broken form, her silky blonde Malfoy hair sweeping over my bloodstained features. I inhaled her scent, the scent I had grown up with. This was the smell that had always been there to comfort me after father's indifferent treatment towards me. She seemed to become aware that I had regained consciousness as her head suddenly snapped up, her golden brown eyes meeting my grey ones.

"Oh Draco." She rasped, tears streaming down her porcelain face.

"Mo-uh-th-er" I faltered, my hoarse voice grating my throat.

"Shh Draco. D-don't speak. You're going to b-be alright. You're g-going to be a-alright."

She staggered to her feet and tentatively began to levitate me to my bedroom. As I floated through the still air my agonised body pulsated with sharp pain. Mother babbled anxiously as we made our way to my room.

"It's s-so lucky that I se-secretly took that muggle n-n-nursing course. H-how could I have kn-nown to use a ch-ch-chest tube otherwise?" She struggled to speak, her tears now flowing thick and fast.

It was true that my mother had attended a muggle nursing course. She had always held an interest in muggle healing, despite Lucius' forced beliefs.

As I was cautiously lowered onto the bed, I gasped in pain, my ribs were agony and I suspected I had injured my leg. I couldn't hold back the moan that escaped me. Mother's glassy eyes ached with sadness as she surveyed me. My swollen, ivory lips were caked with blood and my left eye was as black as the night sky beyond the room's velvet drapes. Shiny redness coated my chest and my shin was purpling by the second. In short, I looked scarcely alive.

I inhaled shakily and pain shot through my chest. Would it be better simply to die? To fade into the black abyss I had just been revived from? A silent tear crawled down my cheek as I realised the inevitable. I would have to leave the manor, leave my mother. I would have to leave her with this bastard, this monster, or I would surely die. I knew no amount of begging or pleading would suede her to leave Lucius, she was simply too devoted to the beast. As I gazed desperately at my mother, she seemed to understand my thoughts.

"I'll b-be fine Draco. Don't look back. Leave me."

I was unable to restrain the sob that ripped from my pained chest. Mother knelt at my bedside and kissed my bloodstained cheek. She seemed to have calmed herself in my distress.

She whispered softly in my ear "I love you Draco. Never, ever forget that."

As her solitary tear splashed onto my cheek, I broke for the second time that night, this time mentally. I cried like a child as my mother hugged me for the last time.

"I'll send you to a muggle hospital. St Mungo's cannot know about Lucius. You should heal just as well but perhaps slower. I love you so much Draco. Goodbye."

And in a whirl of colour my Mother disappeared as I was apparated away from the Manor. Away from her.


	3. Chapter 3

****Thanks so much for reading guys! Just want to reiterate that JK is the ultimate divine ruler of Harry Potter R&R x****

Two days later, my fractured tibia (a bone in the shin) was held tight within a cast and my blackly bruised chest was healing, if very slowly. The muggle healer, doctor I think the muggles called him, had told me my lung would take approximately 12 weeks to recover. He hadn't treated the bruising on my face but recommended ice for pain relief. Three stitches were needed for my split lip and eight were used to seal the hole the chest tube made. Disregarding the doctor's dire warnings, I refused to walk with crutches, simply limping, an invisibility charm over my constricting cast at all times. I would not appear weak in front of my Hogwarts peers. There was nothing I could do about my face however, but simply live with the shame. Hopefully it appeared as though I had been in a fight with a fellow wizard as opposed to being beaten to the brink of death by my mentally insane father.

I winced as the Hogwarts express gave a sudden lurch, and emitted an audible groan. It hurt to breathe, let alone move. I sat alone in my carriage, leaning against the window next to my seat. This was not to appear arrogant or blasé, but truthfully I could barely hold myself up. I refused to take the prescribed muggle pain killers the doctor had given me. While I had overcome my old judgments of their inferiority, I could not yet trust them completely. I absent-mindedly ran a hand through my white-blond hair, my grey eyes closing blissfully as sleep seized me.

It felt like seconds later that I heard a gentle knock on my compartment door. I lifted my head away from the window, for it had rested against the cool glass as I slept, and glanced up to see an unmistakable mane of bushy brown hair. Hermione Granger was standing tentatively in the doorway. Upon the exposure of my beaten face she gasped in shock; I did look dreadful after all. At once she hurriedly entered the compartment, sitting across from me, concern tainting her bright face.

"Malfoy! What's happened to you? Are you alright?" she exclaimed in a rush.

"Why hello Granger. How nice to see you again." I said sarcastically. "It's nothing. None of your business anyway." Annoyance was clearly evident in my tone.

She withdrew slightly, for she had been leaning quite close to me, analysing my injuries with raised brows.

"Oh. Well no need to be rude Malfoy, I was merely concerned. I just came in to make sure you knew the conditions of your position this year."

"What position?" I asked my annoyance quickly changing to bewilderment.

"That you're head boy of course!" Hermione exclaimed in a disbelieving tone. "And I'm head girl. We'll be sharing a common room separate to those of our houses. I just wanted to make sure you knew and I hoped, well I hoped we could make a sort of truce this year, since we'll be living so closely."

"You're joking. I can't be head boy! Isn't Potter or Weasley? Why would I be head boy? What in the name of Merlin are you talking about Granger?" I cried incredulously.

"Harry and Ron aren't coming back this year. They decided to start Auror training right away. I just thought it was more beneficial to regain the year of education I lost before I even considered a career." She said matter of factly. "Malfoy don't be an idiot. Why would I joke about this? Of course you're head boy. Professor McGonagall sent an owl explaining all this. Didn't you read it?"

The truth was I barely read any letters on the holidays as I was trapped in the library most days, hiding from Lucius; not that I was about to tell Granger.

"Uh… I didn't get it. The owl I mean. Well okay um I suppose then…"

"You suppose what exactly Malfoy?

"I suppose we can have a truce then Granger. Keep up." I said irritably.

She was clearly taken aback, her brown eyes widening to the size of dinner plates.

"Oh... uh okay. Great." She cleared her throat. "Well I'm glad we uh sorted that out. Yes. Uh I should go. I'm supposed to be changed by now."

She left the compartment in awkward silence, my smug eyes following her out the door.


	4. Chapter 4

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As the train came to a screeching stop at Hogsmeade Station I pulled my trunk down from the luggage rack. The heavy load swung to the ground and I moaned in discomfort. The twisting motion had hurt my ribs terribly. I attempted to stretch and then dragged my trunk behind me as I limped from the compartment. The platform was teeming with people; first years being shepherded over to the booming Hagrid and other students swarming towards the thestral drawn carriages. I was unsurprised that I was now able to see the great skeletal beasts. I witnessed the death of many wizards and witches at the battle of Hogwarts.

I climbed aboard the first empty carriage I could find and locked the door. I did not want anyone disturbing me, I knew my façade of calmness would crack as the coach hit obstacles along the path to Hogwarts; pain was inevitable. I had just sat down cautiously, not wanting to upset my injuries, when a soft knock resounded in the small carriage. I saw the characteristic bushy hair through the tinted window and recognised Granger, yet again.

"Hold on." I grumbled. I swore under my breath as I stiffly got to my feet, the discomfort of moving was really getting to me. Unlocking the door, I swung it open to see Granger standing concernedly outside.

"I saw you limp off the platform Malfoy. Are you sure you're alright?" Her worried eyes examined my face, the only injured part of me she could see.

"Don't worry yourself Granger, I don't know why you even care."

Her previously anxious brown eyes filled with fiery anger. She opened her mouth, no doubt about to retort, when a gruff voice rang out from the distant station.

"All carriages start moving!"

The carriages trundled into movement, the pants of the thestrals carrying on the cool night air. Panic crossed Hermione's smooth face as she realised her position; she was without a compartment.

"Argh Granger! Fine get in. Hurry!" I stepped aside irritably and she quickly jumped into the moving carriage. I swiftly snapped the door shut and turned to see her settling herself on one of the seats.

"Thanks Malfoy. Sorry to intrude." She said awkwardly, avoiding eye contact.

The aggravation her voice had held only moments ago had dissolved, replaced with an embarrassed tone. I sat down painfully, unable to with-strain the sharp intake of breath that followed the movement.

"Malfoy, listen. You're obviously hurt. You don't have to tell me how, but I can help. I can take you to Madame Pompfrey. I-"

I cut her off, stating in a voice devoid of emotion, "Drop it."

My menacingly flat tone seem to reach her as she didn't pursue the topic. However, I could see in her eyes that she was still concerned.

"You seem different Malfoy." She stated bluntly. "Less arrogant. The old you would never stand to make a truce with a filthy mudblood like myself. What's happened to you?" Her curious expression was almost cute as she stared at me, clearly frustrated at having just been commanded to stop her interrogation. Cute? What was I thinking? Granger could never be cute. Politely inquisitive I mentally corrected myself.

"Well uh… as I'm sure you heard from the Prophet, my Father was released from Azkaban and um well it's just different now… I've changed…" I tailed off, refusing to meet her eyes, staring fixedly at my entwined hands.

"Oh, of course… I did read…" She paused and looked directly into my averted face. "I'm sorry Draco."

This was the first time I could recall she had used my first name. I glanced up in surprise unable to prevent myself. My error was evident as our eyes met; her large brown ones filling with earnest pity upon encountering the unmistakable pain in mine. But I didn't want to be pitied. I didn't want to be weak.

"Yes well. Thank you." I said shortly. "Um so we're sharing a common room are we?"

As she described the circumstances of the arrangement, we'd be sharing a common room but residing in different dormitories, I let my mind wander to my mother. I hoped with every fibre in my being Lucius hadn't punished her for helping me. I would not, could not be the cause of her pain. As deranged as he was, it was fortunate that he mostly refrained from harming Mother; there must be a part of him that remembers his deep love for her I thought. But he had never loved me. He had never cared. He had never…

My thoughts trailed off as Hermione continued to speak in the background and the swaying of the carriage sent jolts of pain through my aching body.


	5. Chapter 5

****Hey everyone. Thank you so much for following and fanning! I really appreciate it. I would absolutely love to hear your opinion so please, please leave a review for me! Just to reiterate, JK is the real artist behind this – not me. I'm just lucky enough to be able to play with her magnificent ideas. Thanks heaps for the support xx****

The thestral drawn cart pulled to a sudden stop and I jerked awake. Evidently I had fallen asleep as Granger rambled. Blinking rapidly to clear my vision, Hermione was unveiled from the cloudy stupor. She was on her feet, peering suspiciously at me, eyebrows furrowed. Plainly, she was still concerned in regards to my unusual behaviour. Maybe I had been groaning in my sleep? Fortunately, she heeded my earlier advice and did not inquire further.

"Well I'll see you in the common room tonight Malfoy." She said, swiftly departing the carriage, robes swishing behind her.

I got painfully to my feet and left the coach, dragging my trunk as I meandered towards the looming castle. I looked around me, surveying the familiar grounds. I had never before appreciated the sanctuary they provided. As a youth I had always degraded Hogwarts, pretending it didn't matter to me. But now, as I reached the stone steps leading up to the oak front doors I felt safe for the first time in months. I released an audible sigh of contentment as I stood gazing above me at the grand castle.

A student suddenly shouldered me out of their way as they climbed the steep steps and I was shaken out of my inattentive state. I groaned and started my ascent up the large stone stairs. Pain tore at my ribs and leg but I simply scrunched my face and persevered. Thankfully the climb was short and I exhaled in relief as I limped through the entrance hall. I left my heavy trunk outside, I was unsure where my dormitory was this year, and passed through the doors leading to the great hall. I approached the Slytherin table and sat in an unoccupied corner, sighing as my taut muscles relaxed. Many stares reached my spot, fixing on my lonesome figure. Turning my bruised, stitched face to the hard wood before me, I brooded silently until Professor McGonagall's voice filled the now bustling hall.

"Good evening students. I hope you have all had a restful holiday." She paused, waiting expectantly for silence, and I rolled my eyes thinking how her words described the polar opposite of my holidays.

"As many of you are aware I have recently been given the honourable title of Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." A spatter of applause broke out as she continued. "It is my great pleasure to run this magnificent school and lead your educational future. Let us start the school year with the tradition of the sorting. First years please proceed to the stool at the front of the hall."

A neat line of timid first years shuffled towards the hat as its rip opened to commence its song. Soon the ancient voice was reverberating around the hall, for everyone to hear. Not interested whatsoever in the sorting nor the hat's song, I gloomily stared at the wooden table I was hunched over, picking at the flaking wood.

Approximately half an hour later after the last sorting of Zutro, Prudence into Ravenclaw, Professor McGonagall stood, instantly hushing the crowd of students before her.

"Now, I know your travels were long and you have been very patient. So to quote perhaps the greatest wizard ever to live, 'Tuck in'."

Magnificent meals of all descriptions appeared instantly on the shining, golden plates before us. Roast potatoes with rosemary, black pudding and tender lamb filled my senses as I filled my plate with the scrumptious delights. Shortly after I had satisfied my hunger with dinner, puddings replaces the now empty plates. Deciding to decline the tempting smells of the sweets, I was much too full, I looked around the buzzing hall. My wandering eyes instantly found Granger. She too was sitting alone on the outskirts of the Gryffindor table. I hurriedly averted my eyes as she glanced in my direction. That was close I decided. Too close.

Not long after this, Professor McGonagall closed the feast and the consequential scraping of chairs pained my ears. I staggered to my feet sorely and hobbled out with the crowd. Collecting my trunk as I departed, I waited for Hermione to emerge from the sea of people. Finally, after some time, I spotted her amongst some first years and made my way over.

"Granger!" I called.

She whirled in surprise, losing her balance completely. Toppling over comically, her heels flew into the air. I caught her just in time, my hand pressing into the small of her back, and righted her to face me with a grimace.

"Oh thank you!" She exclaimed squeakily, stepping away awkwardly. She cleared her throat and lowered her voice to its normal tone. "I suppose you need directions to our common room?"

I nodded embarrassedly, not making eye contact, feeling a slight blush creep up my neck. _I _was blushing? Because of Hermione Granger? No it must have been the fact that I needed her help to find the dormitory. That was it. That _had _to be it.


	6. Chapter 6

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We approached the door to our common room on the seventh floor. The _seventh _floor.The walk had been agonising, my breath now coming in short pants. Hermione looked at me in concern but again refrained from pursuing our earlier discussion. I was grateful.

"So," I puffed, "This is it, is it?" I attempted to stretch casually but winced in pain, ruining the effect.

"Yes. Um would you like to catch your breath or…" she trailed off, staring pityingly at my wan form.

"No, no it's fine. I'm fine." I assured. "Shall we?" I pushed off from the wall I had been resting against and Hermione opened the door.

Inside was a cosy room; currently warm from the fire burning in the grate on the far wall. The lush, red carpet and the scarlet drapes matched exactly, providing a certain grandeur to the décor. Two plump velvet armchairs sat facing the dancing fire with a low mahogany coffee table between them. Bright red banners embroidered with the Hogwarts coat of arms hung on either side of the grand fire place. As we entered, I felt welcomed into the embrace of the room and relaxed.

I limped over to one of the chairs, dropped my trunk and collapsed in front of the fire. Heaving a deep sigh, I sunk into the plush velvet.

"Very swish." I muttered to myself.

Evidently, Hermione had caught my words as she replied, "Yes, I think this will do nicely." Her almost posh mannerisms reminded me of Mary Poppins, a character from a muggle children's book I had read secretly when I was ten. "Well I think I'll go unpack. I only had time to bring up my trunk earlier. Goodnight Malfoy."

"Mmm g'night." I mumbled, the soreness plaguing my body dissolving as my eyes drooped, sleep consuming the pain.

I woke with a start; heart pounding, breath painfully sharp. Hermione was standing over me, her hands on my shoulders. Apparently, she had just shaken me awake from my disturbed sleep. In the nightmare, Lucius had come to Hogwarts and violently assaulted me in the crowded great hall. Hermione, clearly silhouetted in the dream, had simply turned her nose up in disgust at my weak behaviour. I had screamed for her to help, to stop him, but she hadn't even spared me a second glance.

However, any prior thoughts of her indifference were banished as the current fear in her eyes was unmistakable.

"Draco? Thank goodness. Are you ok? Are you hurt?" She questioned me, clearly panicked, with her hands still pressing into my shoulders. Her warm eyes darted as they searched me for any sign of injury.

I nodded my head, gasping slightly, and stuttered, "Yes, yes I'm fine."

She removed her vice-like hands and crouched before my armchair.

"You were bellowing in your sleep. I heard you from upstairs, in my dormitory, and came rushing down. You sounded like you were being tortured Malfoy. It was petrifying." Her brown eyes filled with anxiety as she gazed up at my weak form. "Draco, I'm going to be honest, I'm freaked. There is clearly something wrong with you. I tried being patient. I tried being calm. But it can't continue like this. _I _can't continue like this. Let me help you Draco."

For a second, I let myself believe she could help me. I imagined my complicated life fixed with a simple confession to Hermione Granger. But as quickly as the hope had occurred, it vanished. What in the name of Merlin could she possibly do to help me?

I jumped up from my chair, with as little groaning as I could muster, and stormed away yelling behind me, "I'm fine Granger! Stop hounding me. Can you just leave me alone?"

She was before me in an instant. I came to an abrupt halt in order to avoid collision. Anger was written into her features as she glared at me furiously. "Draco Malfoy you tell me what's wrong this instant! I'm not letting you go until you spill."

I cursed at her loudly in frustration. Didn't she get that I didn't want help? Didn't she get that I _couldn't_ be helped? In return for my language, she heatedly shoved me, hard, into the wall. Her small hands pressed violently into my injured chest and I stumbled, leaning agonisingly on my broken leg. I cried out and doubled over, clutching my chest and gasping in pain. Hastily, I removed all weight from my injured limb, hobbling on the spot.

Hermione, seeing the immense pain she had caused, instantly jumped to support me back to my chair.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry Draco. I shouldn't have… It's my fault… Are you alright?" she exclaimed in genuine concern as she lowered me into the plush velvet.

I knew then that I would not be able to hide my injuries any longer. I had given too much away. She would only persist until the whole truth was discovered. There was no escaping the fact she was a better witch than I a wizard so I couldn't force my way out. I stood up again, groaning loudly, and silently unbuttoned my shirt.

"What are you…"Hermione tailed off in pure horror as my chest was revealed.

She stared, transfixed, at my blackened torso. Large purple clouds covered two thirds of my chest, as deeply violet as a 'Cadbury' chocolate wrapper. Yellow edged the purple bruising which extended around my back. The place where the chest tube had been inserted was tightly stitched, matching my busted lip. I promptly lifted the leg of my pants to reveal my now visible cast, and the horror in her eyes deepened further.

"Oh, Draco. I'm so sorry." Hermione whispered, almost inaudibly, her glassy eyes brimming with unshed tears.

"Who?" she asked quietly, after a lengthy silence.

"My father." I replied, equally as quiet.

I sat down onto the carpet below and Hermione joined me, embracing my shuddering form.


	7. Chapter 7

****Two updates in one day – say what? Haha sorry this is such a short chapter, but I hope you still enjoy it. Don't forget to review! Have a nice day or night (depends where you live) xx****

I woke softly, opening my eyes slowly and contentedly. I looked curiously at the high, stone ceiling above me and sighed. Last night rolled into my mind like a chilly fog in the winter. As my senses resumed, I felt Hermione's head resting on my gently rising chest. I peered down at her. We were both lying on the thick, luscious carpet covered in a deep red knit blanket. House elves must have draped the comfortable fabric on our sleeping forms. My stiff ribs ached dully, not particularly bothersome but ever present. Hermione's eyes were peacefully closed, her soft lips slightly parted. They were full and as smooth as silk. In fact they were very kissab-

_Stop!_ I told myself, mentally forcing my wandering thoughts back in line. I must be deranged. How could a person move from such hatred to _this _in a single year? I shifted away from Hermione, gently, not wishing to stir her from her tranquil state. This was apparently to no prevail as she opened her innocent brown eyes at my slight movement. Coming to herself rapidly the sleepiness changed to alarm in a flash. She abruptly sat up and smoothed her hair.

Clearing her throat she said awkwardly, "Uh thank you for… well… letting me sleep on you."

"That's ok." I said, unable to hide the responsive smirk.

"Well, now it's morning, I think you should go to the hospital wing Draco." She appealed, straightening up.

The smirk died instantly. "Uh no. No, I can't. They can't know about… about Lucius."

"Draco, I'm sure the school will maintain confidence. You need to have those injuries treated. They're…" Her eyes filled with pain as she recalled my blackened torso, "unbearable." She finished.

As much as I wanted to resist, to obey my mother, I caved at the tempting offer of release from this constant agony.

"Fine." I said resignedly. "But only if they swear not to tell the ministry. Or else my mother…"

Hermione nodded sadly in understanding and began to walk towards the door. It was the way she cared about me, the way she was pained to see me hurt, that made a soft well of hope throb dully in my wounded chest. I limped forwards and grabbed her wrist, spinning her to face me.

"What are you-" Her words were halted as my lips met hers.

Her soft mouth melded perfectly with mine, her tense body relaxing as I pulled her into me, embracing her small form. She was clearly hesitant at harming me further but I didn't care. Hermione's hands lifted to my bruised face and she gently stroked the patches of purple littering my pallid skin. Her lips softly brushed my stitches as our mouths worked as one. Emotions sparked like fireworks in my very insides; passion, warmth, delight.

I looked into her eyes as we pulled apart. Hers reflected my own showing surprise and unmistakably, pleasure. That one kiss had changed our perspective of each other forever. Never again would we be the squabbling second years or the hateful teens. We were now connected through a new bond, something special and warm that filled my insides with blissful contentment. In those few seconds my inner feelings of deep pain and anguish had been exposed. Hermione, in turn, had bared her inner hope and innocence, attempting to help repair my tarnished being. I grinned down at her beautiful face and the warmth within me pulsated gently.

"So the hospital wing then?" Hermione said, an unrestrained smile spreading across her flawless features.

"Sure."

We walked out the common room door, hands enclosed, together.


	8. Chapter 8

**** Hi everyone. I'm so sorry I haven't updated in so long! I'll try harder from now on, I promise, but I am at school so it's pretty hectic. I hope you all have had a wonderful Easter holiday period. This chapter is a bit longer – yay – so I hope you enjoy! R&R xxx****

Healed and refreshed, I walked into the Great Hall. Wishing I was with Hermione, currently seated in the scarlet and gold bannered area on the far side of the enormous hall, I took my seat at the Slytherin table. I gazed at her lone form. She was tucked up in a corner of the table reading a thick volume, a spoon halfway to her open mouth. Hermione started as a swooshing sound filled the great hall and a brown owl carrying the _Daily Prophet _landed before her. As she exchanged the leather bound book for the paper, I wistfully imagined my arms around her. Glumly, I returned to my own breakfast, omelette. I was half-heartedly pushing the food around my plate, lost in thoughts of Hermione, when a boy suddenly smacked me on the back, in a welcoming gesture.

Panicked, my mind whirred into overdrive, interpreting the jovial swipe as an attack. I fell backwards off my chair, sprawling on the ground and shielding my face, ready for the next blow. As I cowered on the floor all the Slytherins up and down the long table guffawed cruelly at my weak behaviour. I lowered my hands from my face and straightened up. The oddly warped sea of snickering, leering faces, sent me wheeling from the Great Hall. I hastily departed, imagining their malicious taunts.

"Draco Malfoy, arrogant pureblood, spooked at a mere pat on the back!"

"Draco Malfoy's such a coward."

"Draco Malfoy's a loser."

"Draco's Malfoy's scared."

"Draco…"

These thoughts reverberated around my brain as I stumbled through the corridors and up the stairs, replaying until I started to believe them myself.

How weak was I to be scared at a friendly gesture?

How weak was I to fall to the ground at a single touch?

I _was_ scared. I _was_ pathetic. _I was weak._

I blundered into the common room, ran up the stairs and slammed my dormitory door behind me, locking it for good measure. Sliding down the smooth wood, my head fell into my hands. I stayed like this for a long time, hunched against the onslaught of my thoughts, contemplating the pitiful being I had become. Lucius had broken my will as his mind had broken in Azkaban; painfully and completely. I didn't stand up for myself, I complied, for fear of being punished. I was constantly jumpy, my tormented mind ever alert for the smallest of danger.

I was unclear how many hours passed before my whirling thoughts jolted to an abrupt halt, a loud knock sounding on the hard wood behind me.

"Draco? I know you're in there. Please let me in. I saw those prats laughing at breakfast. Don't listen to them. Don't let them get to you." Hermione's sweet voice seeped through the cracks in the wood.

Caving to her demands, I shifted slightly to the right in order to remove myself from the doors path, unlocking it with a quick flick of my wand.

Hermione tentatively crept inside, peering around the frame. I lifted my lowered head as she sat, cross legged before me. We sat in silence for a long time, simply staring into each other's eyes. She was so beautiful. How could I have treated her so monstrously for all those years? She would always be better than me. Always had been.

Voicing my thoughts I uttered, "How can you stand to be around me?"

My voice rasped like a plough on dry ground.

Hermione, taken aback at my sudden speech, simply stared at me in stunned silence, mouth agape.

"I am so weak. So pathetic." I continued, barely audible. "You should just leave Hermione. I'm not…not good for you. You'll only suffer. There is nothing decent left in me. Just _go_."

Her shocked eyes burned with pain as she burst into indignant speech.

"You think I care that you're scared? You think I care that you're frightened of being hurt again? You _are_ hurting, Draco. You _are _scared." Her furious eyes pooled with tears. "But it isn't a weakness. It shows that after all the anguish you have been through, all the pain, you can still feel, love, hurt. You're not an emotionless shell. So what if you're jumpy? I don't care. You were beaten by your own father, Draco." The tears spilled down her cheeks, but she continued, "I'm surprised you aren't scared of me, your old foe. We used to despise each other, yet just yesterday, you revealed your weakness to me. You will never be pathetic. You are brave. I refuse to let you think otherwise." Hermione fed me strength as she talked. She was the only one that mattered. The only one I cared about. "But now, you need to show me your courage. I will not let you hide yourself away because of fear. You cannot let it control you. Show me your bravery Draco and accept that you're scared, but never pathetic. Show me."

I suddenly became aware there were tears streaming down my face. Never before had someone cared about me this deeply, so openly. Hermione's genuine belief in her words made my heart soar. Maybe I wasn't weak, wasn't pathetic. No one understood, that was all. No one except Hermione. I felt physically weakened. The love and emotion she had displayed to me was overwhelming. I did not believe anyone could have felt for me the way she did.

Hermione leant forward and embraced me as the sobs racked my body. She whispered softly in my ear, "Promise me you won't ever think you're pathetic. Promise me Draco." I gulped and leant back, hands still at her waist, staring steadily into her eyes.

The world seemed to still as I waited for my shuddering breath to slow and my hands to cease shaking before replying, "I-I promise."

The arms I had around her waist contracted as I pulled her towards me, making her scoot forwards across the carpet. She slid into my lap, legs on either side of me, staring into my steely, grey eyes. Gently, I pressed my lips to hers.

Warmth exploded in my chest as for the first time in my life, I knew love other than my Mother's. My mother's affection was vital, necessary; a rock to provide sanctuary and protection from Lucius. She picked me up when I had fallen, only the way a mother can. And while she loved me, I knew she loved Lucius more. I would never replace him in her heart.

As we pulled apart and gazed at one another, Hermione's hands around my neck, mine at her waist, I knew that this feeling inside, this warmth, was love. It was not skewed. It was not second. It was real.


	9. Chapter 9

****Hey guys! I really hope you enjoy this chapter – it took a little while to finalise. Please, _please PLEASE_ read and review! Thank you, thank you, thank you! Xx****

I had kept my promise. I had not let my fears consume me. They were there, I was not fearless, nor did I aim to be, but I had accepted their presence. For two months I had dated Hermione. For two months I had known real love. I was happy.

It was now, as I sat with Hermione in Slughorn's dungeon classroom, gazing at the lengthy list of ingredients scrawled on the blackboard, that I reflected on these achievements. None of it would have been possible without her. I do not know how I would have coped these past two months if she had not helped me the way she had. If I was ridiculed she would whisper sweet words of comfort in my ear, each time building my resistance. If I seemed down, her hand would encase mine and would squeeze tightly, letting me know she was there. Hermione would sometimes ask if I wanted to talk, to confide, but I would always decline. I could not possibly burden her more than I already had.

Swishing my wand over my vividly orange potion, I glanced at her. Her long mane of bushy brown hair was tamed into a loose bun, from which wiry strands were escaping. Reflecting the glow of her potion, her focused eyes looked auburn as she squinted down at her cauldron. She flicked the pencil-like stick of wood in her hand and the finely chopped gurdyroots beside her leapt into the bubbling mixture. Instantly, the potion began to steam wildly, and Hermione's form was soon a mere blur in a haze of fog. I swiftly leant over and syphoned the mist from around her, bringing her back into focus. Hermione thanked me curtly, before returning to her now calm potion.

I smiled to myself as I turned back to my own, I knew Hermione would privately dislike requiring help in class, not that she would ever admit it. I stole another quick glance at her, before adding one strand of unicorn hair to the boiling concoction before me.

Hermione and I's hands swung gently as we walked to Transfiguration. McGonagall always provided a challenging lesson and today was no exception; we would be transforming our feet into flippers. Reaching a staircase hidden behind a portrait, I gave Hermione a quick kiss on the cheek before releasing her small hand; the corridor was too narrow to walk in pairs. Jumping the trick step, I couldn't help longing that her palm was still pressed against mine. We joined the line at the classroom door with the rest of the eighth years and I leant against the smooth stone behind me. My mouth stretched as I yawned widely, I had not had a very restful sleep last night; Lucius had once again infiltrated my dreams.

"Mr Malfoy, I do hope I will not be studying the inside of your mouth all lesson. Make sure you are awake through my explanation, won't you?" Professor McGonagall's harsh tones rung through the corridor.

"Yes of course Professor." I muttered, sheepishly.

Hermione and I followed Professor McGonagall through the classroom door and took our regular seats, towards the front.

"Good Morning students. In today's lesson we will be attempting to transfigure our feet into flippers. This is a complicated spell best performed when…"

McGonagall continued to explain the complex magical theory behind the process, as I tried to keep my eyes open. Beside me, Hermione's face was hard with concentration, her warm, brown eyes squinted at the jam-packed chalkboard, mouthing the words written there. Her hand flew across the parchment as she took notes; she was easily the most attentive in the class.

I was therefore unsurprised that upon trying the spell, Hermione was the first student to be successful. I couldn't supress a laugh as she waddled up the aisle to Professor McGonagall, in order to receive the counterjinx instructions. She evidently caught the remnants of my smirk as she resumed her seat and playfully punched my arm, grinning.

"At least I can do the spell!" She laughed.

"Oh yeah?" I challenged.

Flourishing my wand exuberantly in the direction of my bare feet, I exclaimed loudly, "Fliparo Forvlande!"

My big toes merely gave an odd sort of wiggle.

Giggling, Hermione said, "It's Forvandle! Not Forvlande, you idiot."

I gave her a wicked grin before jabbing her in the ribs, causing her to burst into raucous laughter.

"Draco! Stop it! You're distracting-"Her words were stifled as I poked more vigorously and the giggles consumed her. She squirmed away, and dropped to the floor panting, face scrunched in mirth.

"You are." _Pant_. "Dead." _Giggle_. "Meat."

She leapt up from the floor and attacked me, her hands wriggling at my neck. I bellowed and laughed, attempting to prise her off me.

"Heeerrrrmmiiiioooonneee!" I whined. "You're going to suffocate me!"

She continued to tickle me, pinning me against the wall next to our desks.

"Ms Granger! Please release Mr Malfoy this instant."

Our giggles were silenced instantly and the tickling of my neck was halted as Hermione jumped to attention. I straightened my tie and gulped, facing McGonagall. Her stony face glowered at us, no sign of amusement evident in the thin line that was her mouth. Hermione, to my left was straight backed and tense, clearly abashed.

"I do not tolerate poor behaviour in my class Miss Granger and Mr Malfoy. Especially from our head boy and girl. Misbehave again and I may begin to doubt your appointments. So far you have been successful in your positions, but it is essential to _always_ set a prime example for the other students. Not merely when you feel like it. I expected better of you."

She spun on her heel and walked away, leaving us in taut silence. Turning to Hermione to apologise, I merely faced a wall of bushy hair.

I gently prodded her shoulder and said, "Mione? I didn't mean to get you in trouble."

"Just get on with your work Draco." She blurted, refusing to look at me.

"Hermione, I'm really-"

"Just work Malfoy! I can't talk to you right now."

I looked up to the ceiling and heaved a sigh, wishing I hadn't screwed up. Really, I should have known better. Classes were important to Hermione, it was wrong of me to distract her like that.

When the bell went at the end of the lesson, Hermione walked briskly from the room, not even looking back as I called her name. I dragged my books from the table and dumped them into my bag, wondering how I could make it up to her.


	10. Chapter 10

****Welcome back everyone. Sorry I haven't updated in a while - school is pretty hectic. Now, I have a request of you: please review the story! I'm desperate for some feedback here! Good or bad, let me know what you think. I'm open for critique. Thanks heaps guys xx****

My feet dragged as I walked through the seventh floor corridor towards the common room.

_Why had I been so thoughtless? After all Hermione's done for me. _I gulped before pushing against the grand oak doors.

Poking my head inside, I called out, "Hermione?"

From the flickering shadows of the fire came a sniff. I stepped inside and closed the door gently behind me. Spotting Hermione sitting straight-backed in front of the fire, I walked carefully over, not wanting to make a wrong move.

"Hermione, I'm really sorry. I'm just about to go to Professor McGonagall to tell her it was my fault. I didn't mean to get you in trouble."

She refused to look at me, facing the opposite wall. I knelt behind her and stretched out my hand to touch her shoulder.

"'Mione? Please look at me."

As my hand met her crisp white shirt, I felt her trembling.

"Hermione? Are you alright? 'Mione, look at me, please."

Slowly, she turned to face me. Her face was blotchy and red, wet with the tears that were still coursing down her face. She was shaking violently and her right hand was clutched around a letter.

"Hermione!" I exclaimed, scooting over and pulling her into my lap.

"Baby, what's wrong?! 'Mione, talk to me."

My hands cupped her face as I stared intently at her, alarmed at the pain evident in her eyes. "Hermione. _Please._ What's happened? Was it me?"

"N-no," she whimpered, "the l-l-letter." Consumed by her tears, she sagged against me, her shaking form limp in my arms.

Panic-stricken, I reached behind her and picked up the letter she had dropped. Peering over her trembling shoulder I read:

_Hermione,_

_I am sorry to inform you that, last week, your parents were murdered by an escaped Death Eater. The Death Eater in question, Rodolphus Lestrange, was released from Azkaban in the mass break-out three years ago. Lestrange continued to avoid incarceration beyond He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's defeat. Please be assured our team of Aurors have now captured Lestrange at the scene of your parent's murder, in Australia. We believe it was an act of revenge for your involvement in You-Know-Who's demise. _

_Please accept our__sincerest condolences__,_

_Kingsley Shacklebolt _

_Minister for Magic _

"Oh, Hermione." I whispered. "Baby, it's going to be alright. Oh Merlin."

I gently scooped Hermione into my arms and stood up, her head resting on my chest as she sobbed relentlessly. I walked carefully up the stairs to my dormitory, murmuring comforts in Hermione's ear.

"It's going to be okay, baby. It's going to be alright."

Pushing the door open with my foot, I sat down with Hermione on the edge of my bed. Slowly I leaned back, pulling her with me, as she cried into my shoulder. I drew her close and she wrapped her arms around my torso, burying her face into my neck. My own arms encased her shivering body, trying to hold her together.

We stayed together for hours, my hands softly stroking her back. Eventually, her crying slowed and she opened her eyes, warm, brown and streaked with pain, to look at me.

"W-what am I going to do, Draco?" She hiccupped. "They were all the family I had."

I sighed and pulled her closer.

"Hermione, I know it's hard but we're going to make it through this, together. I'll be by your side all the way. I'm never going to leave you, ever. We're going to make this right."

A solitary tear silently rolled down her beautiful, soft cheek as she whispered, "I love you, Draco."

I kissed her forehead gently as her eyes closed and she drifted to sleep.

With Hermione resting, my own feelings of tiredness became pronounced. Slowly, my aching eyes drifted shut, blocking out the dormitory around me.

It felt like moments later that I stirred awake to the sounds of sniffling.

"Hermione? Why didn't you wake me?"

Hermione was sitting on the edge of my bed, her hands over her face and she cried softly into them. I stepped out of bed and moved around to kneel before her, removing her hands from her face.

I leant up and kissed a tear that was trickling down her cheek whispering, "We need to see McGonagall. She'll help us."

Hermione stood up, shakily. I wrapped my arm around her and she huddled into me for support. We walked down the stairs and through the common room, to the seventh floor corridor. We continued all the way to the gargoyle on the third floor, the tears on Hermione's face still flowing freely.

"Tartan," I muttered.

The gargoyle before us leapt aside and a moving spiral staircase was revealed. We ascended the large stone steps, reaching the griffin door-knocker quickly. I rapped three times on the hard wood.

"Enter," came Professor McGonagall's voice.

Hermione and I stepped inside, my arm still clasped tightly around her.

"Ah, Mr Malfoy, how pleasant to- what's this?" Professor McGonagall stood quickly and hurried over to us.

"Professor McGonagall. Please, help us. Hermione's parents have- have been… It was Rodolphus Lestrange. They're gone." My voice shook with fury at the name and Hermione emitted a stifled sob beside me.

"Oh my- oh my goodness. Draco, Hermione, please take a seat." She gestured to a comfy looking chintz loveseat in the corner of her office.

"Who told you this?" Professor McGonagall questioned, sitting down opposite us.

"Hermione got a letter from Kingsley Shacklebolt."

"Do you have it with you?"

I drew the letter out of my pants pocket and handed it to her. Her mouth thinned to a sliver as her eyes darted across the page.

"Hermione, I cannot express how sorry I am for your loss. Is there anything I can do for you? Would you like to visit the Minister?" Professor McGonagall's voice was quiet and gentle.

"N-no," Hermione sniffed. "I- I just want to get on with school. They'd have- have wanted that."

Professor McGonagall gave a slight, tight-lipped smile and said, "Of course you do. However, for the moment, you are excused from today's lessons. Mr Malfoy too; I don't want you to be alone."

She looked at me and gave a small nod, signalling our release. I rose slowly, my arm still gripped around Hermione, and we departed from the office. We walked in silence back to the common room, our shuffling feet the only noises in the empty corridors. As the grand oak doors swung shut behind us, the bell rung for the first lesson.

I walked Hermione over to the glowing embers in the fire grate and we sunk onto the plush carpet.

"I love you, Hermione Jean Granger."

Her head turned as she looked up at me, a wan smile curving her soft lips.

"Ditto."


End file.
